


someone single, someone blue

by yourtype



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, and by cheers au i mean there's a bar + boston + i took the premise from a cheers episode, cheers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourtype/pseuds/yourtype
Summary: Fitz and Jemma have a perfect friendship. Effortless, really.Until the day Jemma comes to him with a simple request. She needs him to marry her because of a strange clause in her late father's will. It should be easy, just a quick favor between friends. Until the two realize that maybe they aren'tjustbest friends.Also known as that Cheers-inspired fake marriage AU I kept threatening to write. (Though no knowledge or interest in Cheers as its own show is needed to enjoy this).
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	someone single, someone blue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching lots of Cheers lately, and if you follow me on twitter you've probably seen me complain that on the show Sam and Diane get a lot of good set ups/concepts with executions that let me down. This story came from one of those executions (from 1x20, also titled someone single, someone blue) and my absolute fitzsimmons brainrot over the past 6 months.
> 
> I tried to make sure everything here was up to par, but I don't have a beta besides myself and grammarly, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

“Fitz, can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.” 

“We’re friends, right?”

“Of course we are.”

“And you’d do anything for me?”

“Well… I’m not going to answer that until I know what specifically you’re asking but —”

“You’d do almost anything for me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I need you to marry me.”

Fitz paused. Did she just say what he thought she said? Did his best friend of a decade just ask him to marry her? 

“Oh, you have that look again,” Jemma said, pouting slightly and leaning against the desk he was sitting at, peacefully reading until Jemma had given this insane proposal.

“What look?”

“Your surprised look. When your eyes bug out and you get all nervous.”

“I think it's entirely reasonable to me to pull out my _surprised look_ , Jemma. You just asked me to marry you,” He almost hissed the last two words, as if he wasn’t allowed to say them out loud.

“I don’t want to marry you, Fitz,” Jemma said plainly, only confusing Fitz even more.

“You did ask, so you could’ve fooled me.”

“It’s not that I want to marry you. It’s that I _need_ to marry you. Or anyone, honestly. You’re just the top candidate.”

“I’m not tracking.”

“My father passed away,” Jemma started.

“Didn’t he die years ago?”

“Yes. Five years ago on Saturday, to be exact. And, well… You remember my mother, correct?”

“I don’t think I can forget her if I tried,” Fitz said with a laugh. “She might be the most eccentric person I’ve ever met. The fact that she raised someone as reasonable as you hurts my brain a bit.”

“Mine too. But my father was even more... eccentric,” Jemma explained. “And he happened to put a very strange clause in his will. If I’m not married within the next three days, my mother loses her share of his wealth. It all skips her and comes to me instead. I don’t really know why he did it, I think he just wanted to make sure I got married eventually.”

“You’re right, he sounds even worse than your mum,” Fitz said, earning him a light hit on the arm.

“So,” Jemma pushed on. “I need to marry someone very short notice, and you happen to be my first choice. You’re welcome.” she leaned back in her chair, exhausted just by having to have this conversation with him.

“Why not let the money come down to you?”

“I don’t want it. I like my life, I make a fair amount, and I don’t want to get through life because I was handed money on a silver platter. My mother wants it more than I do.”

“Why me?” Fitz asked after a moment.

“I don’t want to marry some weirdo off the streets. I’d rather marry someone I actually care about and think highly of than someone I barely know, even if it’s fake.”

“You think highly of me?” Fitz teased.

“Shut up.” Jemma smiled at him. They lapsed into a brief silence before she asked the question that had been sitting right on the tip of her tongue. “So… will you do it?”

“It’s just a wedding, right?”

“Of course! And barely a wedding at that, just a little speech from someone ordained, a couple of witnesses, and a few days for the lawyers to recognize that we got married. Then we can get a divorce,” Jemma explained. “Don’t even think of it as getting married. Think of it as a business transaction.”

“A business transaction,” Fitz echoed, nodding his head. “Sure, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, thank you!” Jemma said, jumping out of her chair so she could run over and hug him. “Thank you so much, Fitz. It means the world.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jemma.” Fitz beamed at her as she pulled away from the hug. “It’s not a big deal, just an hour out of my day, right?”

“Right. I’ll do all the preparations, too. You won’t have to lift a finger, I swear.” she started to collect her things, scrambling to make sure she hadn’t knocked anything onto the floor when she had jumped up a moment before.

She started to run out the door, before turning back around to smile at him again. “I’ll text you where and when. Thank you, again.”

“No problem, Jem.”

——————

Jemma lifted her hand to the door, rapping sharply on the wood. She shifted from foot to foot, waiting for her friend to answer.

“Who’s there?” A familiar voice called out from behind the door.

“It’s Jemma. I brought wine.”

The door flew open, Daisy greeting her with a wide smile before snatching the wine from her hands.

“Aw, good evening to you too.” Jemma smiled as she followed her friend into her apartment.

“Sure. What brings you to my humble abode? Gossip? Life milestones? General updates?” Daisy asked as she grabbed two glasses from her cabinet, setting them out on the coffee table.

“Not much. MIT’s the same. Got engaged. I couldn’t update you on gossip if I tried. No one keeps me in the loop. You?”

Daisy’s jaw had dropped, and she had been staring at Jemma like she was an alien since ‘engaged.’

“Oh, I don’t understand why everyone reacts like that when I bring up marriage. It’s not that big a deal.”

Daisy shook her head as if that would clear up her thoughts. “Okay, just start from the top. Who, why, how?”

Jemma slipped her shoes off, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from where Daisy was sitting on the other side of the coffee table, squished in between it and her couch. 

“My father put a clause in his will that if I’m not married by the fifth anniversary of his death — so, Saturday — my mother loses all of her inheritance and it comes down to me.”

“Weirdo,” Daisy muttered, earning her a quick glare from Jemma.

“Now, I don’t want the money,” Jemma pushed on, “but I also didn’t know about this clause until yesterday, and I’m not seriously dating anyone, so I have to just marry someone randomly.”

“So who did you propose to?”

“Fitz.” 

Daisy started laughing. Not just a short, casual laugh. Full-on belly laughter, the kind where you can’t stand up straight and tear up because you’re laughing so much.

“What?” Jemma asked, confused about why the idea of her proposing to Fitz would be so hilarious to her friend. 

It took Daisy a moment to compose herself, and even then she was still giggling a bit. “Oh, you are so _fucked_.”

‘Why?”

“So you went and proposed to a man you’ve been completely head over heels with for years —”

“I am not head over heels for him!”

“You are. And he 100% feels the same way. And you’re just going to propose to him like it's nothing? For a quick favor?”

“It is a quick favor!” Jemma said emphatically. “I have absolutely no romantic feelings for Fitz, and he has no romantic feelings for me.”

“If it could’ve been anyone, why did you choose Fitz?” Daisy asked.

“Because I trust him. I trust that he wouldn’t be weirded out or take it too seriously.”

“You trust lots of people, and you’ve asked people for much worse things than marrying you. I have literally held the organs of a cat in my hands because you wanted to figure out how it died. And if there really are no romantic feelings involved, it doesn’t matter who it is, but you still went to Fitz first.”

“Because he’s my best friend and I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. Can you drop it?” Jemma truly didn’t understand why Daisy thought this whole fake-wedding would be so serious, or that she’d put so much thought into it. She felt safe around Fitz, she trusted him, and she trusted him to be fine with a quick ceremony and signing a few papers. It wouldn’t mess up anything between them, especially since neither of them felt anything for each other besides platonic feelings, right?

Fitz and Jemma seemed to be the only two in the world that believed this, and neither of them could understand why. Yes, they loved each other and cared about each other, but in nothing more than a platonic way. Neither understood why Fitz’s mum and Jemma’s parents had made such an ordeal about them bringing each other to visit their respective families one Christmas. They didn’t understand why their friends constantly joked about them getting together. They definitely didn’t understand why any boyfriend or girlfriend either of them had was constantly getting jealous of their friendship.

Because the two of them were best friends, nothing more, and nothing less. 

“You know you’re going to have to kiss him, right?”

Jemma froze slightly. “I hadn’t thought about that part,” she mumbled. “But I’ve kissed plenty of people I wasn’t _head over heels_ for.”

“Sure, but none of those people were Fitz.”

Jemma rolled her eyes, eliciting a giggle from her friend. “Whatever, Daisy. Do you want to help me look up how I’m even supposed to marry him or do you want to just keep trying to convince me I’ve been secretly in love with him for years?”

“Oh, the second option, obviously. But if I get to be the flower girl, I can learn to compromise.”

——————

“Simmons and I are getting married.” He didn’t mean for it to sound so blunt, but he really wasn’t sure how else to phrase it.

Mack and Hunter both looked at him like he had grown a tail, their eyebrows so far up their forehead they almost blended in with their hair. Mack’s beer, already halfway up to his lips, had frozen in place and looked like it could spill out of its mug at any second.

“What the fuck, man?” Mack asked at the same time Hunter said, “Congrats, mate. Big step up from not even being able to admit you have a crush on her.”

“No, it’s not… Wait, I don’t have a crush on Simmons.”

“You’re marrying her,” Hunter supplied with a shrug, taking a sip of his beer. He seemed to be coming to terms with the whole situation very quickly.

“It’s not like that. Her dad has some weird clause in his will that says if she’s not married by Saturday, then her mum loses all the money he left behind. So I’m marrying her, just for a few days. To help her family.”

“Are you sure she isn’t lying to you?” Hunter asked.

“What?”

“It sounds like some terrible, flimsy plot to a bad rom-com. Not like an actual problem someone could ever have.”

Hunter looked over to Mack, clearly wanting him to back him up on this one. “It does sound a bit fishy, Turbo,” Mack said finally.

“Exactly!” Hunter pointed over to Mack like he was giving indisputable evidence. “I, personally, learned that you should never put your faith in marriage or anyone who wants to get married years ago. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

“Bobbi isn’t that bad, Hunter,” Mack groaned, fed up with his constant rants about his ex.

“She’s a she-devil.”

“Okay, Hunter,” Fitz started, “One, Bobbi is a very lovely person who simply happens to have a hard time getting along with you when you two are married. Two, I trust Jemma. She wouldn’t lie to me, especially not about something like this. She doesn’t have any reason to.”

“Maybe she’s in love with you,” Hunter suggested.

“I highly doubt that,” Fitz said. Jemma was his best friend, and he’d like to think he could read her like an open book. Jemma was not in love with him, and he was not in love with her. It was a _business transaction_. Between friends. Nothing more.

“Turbo, are you sure about this?” Mack asked.

“Yes, it’s really not a big deal. We’ll get married before Saturday and by Monday we’ll be divorced. I’m just helping her out.”

“I don’t know, marriage is a big deal. The whole ceremony can change your outlook on things. Your feelings about certain people.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I will not have any _feelings_ towards anyone during it. Especially not towards Jemma. It’s a favor. That’s it.”

“Fitz, both of us have been married before. You haven’t. I think we know what we're talking about.”

“I don’t think anyone can get through their vows without starting to believe them,” Hunter added, “Especially if they’re lying.”

“You’re being ridiculous. Both of you.” Fitz rolled his eyes. “Plenty of people go through fake weddings without catching feelings.”

“How many fake weddings are you going to?” Mack asked.

“Oh, you know what I mean. Actors can act like a couple for years without anything between them. They can act out whole weddings and kiss each other and create the most romantic scenes you’ve ever seen without catching feelings. It’s just like that.” Fitz scratched at the label on his bottle of beer, pushing his thumb under the paper to separate it from the glass.

“Most of them aren’t in love with each other when filming those scenes, though,” Hunter said, earning him a light kick in the shin from Fitz.

“Sure, Turbo. All we’re trying to do is look out for you.”

“I know. And I appreciate you guys trying to help me out, but trust me on this one. This whole marriage thing doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“I sure hope it doesn’t have to be. Y’know when we were getting married, Bobbi actually—”

Hunter was abruptly cut off by a strange and obviously drunk man (holding a Zima, Fitz didn’t even know they still made that) tripping over the stairs next to their table, face planting right into the floor. All three of the men shot up, reaching down to help the man out. Mack and Fitz both gave each other a small look that got across ‘ _am I a bad person for being glad this guy wiped out because it got us out of a Bobbi story?’_ and a small nod, conveying ‘ _probably, but at least we both were thinking it_.’

A soft ping from the table alerted Fitz to a notification from his phone, pulling his attention away from the mostly unharmed man on the floor. 

**From: Jemma Simmons. __**_Looked it up. We need to go apply for a marriage license together at City Hall, then we can get married. After work on Friday? I already have a friend of a friend willing to do the officiating. We can do the actual ceremony in the park._

He smiled down at the notification, hoping Mack and Hunter were sufficiently distracted by testing the man for a concussion that he wouldn’t get teased for it. 

**To: Jemma Simmons.** _A whole ceremony? Simmons, you spoil me. Will this carry over past the honeymoon phase?_

**From: Jemma Simmons. __**_What else am I going to do? Besides, it’ll take ten minutes at most._

**From: Jemma Simmons. __**_Also, we need some witnesses. If you have a friend or two you want to bring that’d be a help._

Fitz looked back up to his friends, making sure to not point the question towards the weird man who was now ranting about some company. “You guys free on Friday at 5?”

——————

“Excuse me, Leo, I don’t think you’re supposed to see the bride on the wedding day.” 

Fitz groaned, leaning against the wooden door frame of her office. “Okay, first of all, none of the _Leo_ business with me.”

“It’s your name.” Jemma smiled, closing her computer and dedicating her full attention to him.

“And it sucks. Everyone calls me ‘Fitz’ for a reason.”

“Even your spouse?”

“Especially my spouse. Second, we’re not actually getting married, so we don’t actually have to follow the weird traditions.”

“Oh, but I was so excited to have you carry me over the threshold.”

“Even if we were getting married, that would be completely unrealistic. Look at me,” Fitz said, sticking his limbs out at random angles, “this is not a body built for lifting. I haven’t done a push up since secondary school.”

Jemma laughed, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Fitz give her that goofy grin he always did when he pulled off a stupid joke around her.

“Anyways, I’m all wrapped up here for the day, so I’m ready whenever you are,” Fitz explained.

“Perfect timing, I was just about to text you to say I was ready to leave.” Jemma pushed herself off her chair up to pack up her things.

“Did you get everything set up?”

“Yep. Daisy knew someone who could officiate the ceremony. His name’s Coulson. He practically raised her, and he happened to be in town this week.”

“Good timing.”

“Right? You invite some witnesses?”

“Yeah. I got your text when I was with Mack and Hunter, and both turned out to be free. They should be meeting us there.”

“Good. Daisy’s coming too, it’s her compensation for helping me plan the entire ordeal.” Jemma went over the list of things in her head, trying to make sure she had both gotten everything ready for the ceremony.

“We need to go get rings,” Jemma blurted out as she got towards the end of that list.

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” 

“Fitz,” Jemma rolled her eyes, “I know you don’t want to play into any _weird wedding traditions_ , but they’re a part of the ceremony.”

“No, no, I know that. It’s just that we don’t need to go get them because I may have… already gotten a pair,” Fitz said, looking down at his shoes and sticking his hands into his pockets as if he was embarrassed by the gesture.

“Oh, Fitz.” Jemma smiled at him. “That’s very sweet of you, you really could’ve left buying them up to me.”

“I didn’t precisely buy a pair,” Fitz said, almost mumbling the words.

“Then what did you do?” Jemma asked, furrowing her brow.

“I — well… I went over to Cheers last night with Mack and Hunter, and on my way home I passed by a pawnshop. I went looking for rings for a while and nothing exactly fit—”

“Your little boy fingers?” Jemma teased.

“Hilarious,” Fitz replied dryly. “No, nothing exactly fit what I was envisioning. With any pair I found there was a little voice in the back of my head saying that if we really were getting married, if we were going to wear these rings for the rest of our lives, I wouldn’t want to buy any of them for you.”

“Oh,” Jemma said, because she genuinely couldn’t think of anything else to say. She couldn’t fully explain why the idea of Fitz putting so much thought into their wedding made her feel so happy and warm. “So… where’d you get the rings?” She finally said after a moment.

“I made them,” Fitz said, a slight blush crawling up his cheeks. 

He reached for his bag, rummaging through one of its smaller side pockets until he finally found the rings. He pulled them out, opening up his palm towards Jemma so she could see them clearly.

Jemma took in a sharp intake of breath as Fitz dropped the rings into her hands. They were both fairly simple, but something about them left her star-struck. One — presumably Fitz’s — was a simple band, made of platinum. The other was made of the same material, but a bit thinner, with a small stone set in the middle. Both had small numbers engraved in the interior. Jemma smiled when she realized what they were. _03-09-03_. The day they met.

“I know they’re pretty basic, I didn’t have much time. If we were actually getting married I probably would’ve put more thought into the design, I just wanted to make something that was _ours_. Not a tacky set made by some faceless company and sold for a ridiculous price or pawned by some divorced couple, but just something between the two of us.” 

“Fitz,” Jemma looked up at him, blinking back a few tears. She wasn’t entirely sure why this was affecting her so much. It was simply a gift from her friend, after all. “I love them.”

Fitz froze, a smile growing across his face. “You do?”

“Of course I do. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

Fitz blushed even more. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not that big a deal,” he mumbled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Fitz.” She looked back down to the rings in her hand, gently rubbing her fingers over the cool metal. “I probably won't even want to take mine off once we get divorced.”

“Oh, it’s yours to keep, if you want it. Think of it as a… friendship ring,” Fitz said, his voice hitching up on the last words as if he was asking a question instead of giving a suggestion.

“Sure. Friendship ring.” Jemma smiled, but for some reason, this one felt much more forced than the others. She cleared her throat, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. “Anyway, I believe we have some paperwork to sign.”

Fitz laughed, following her out of the room. “Oh, I can barely wait.”

——————

“You know, once we do this, there’s no going back.”

“It’s a wedding, Jemma, not setting off a bomb.” Fitz smiled down at her. Jemma lightly elbowed him, making his smile only grow. 

The small group of friends - the two of them, plus Mack, Daisy, Hunter, and Coulson - stood under the weaving, ivy-covered arches of a small walkway in the park, looking out onto the harbor.

It was a very beautiful park, one that Jemma and Fitz had often strolled through on nice days, setting up blankets for picnics or study sessions under the trees whenever they got sick of being cooped up in the lab.

“If the bride and groom would step forward, please,” Coulson said, making the two take a timid step towards the man. As much as the two were adamant that the wedding wasn’t a big deal, both felt a strange sense of worry deep in their belly. What if something went terribly? What if they ruined the ceremony and couldn’t go through with it? They both trusted each other, but neither was quite sure if they trusted themselves.

“Remember, no emotions,” Fitz said, leaning down a few inches so he could whisper the words into her ear as Daisy, Hunter, and Mack all set themselves up around them. Daisy had been able to secure a few flowers last second, running around the park until she had found enough to crown herself the flower girl.

“Trust me, if I feel anything romantic, I will run screaming into the street,” Jemma assured him. 

“And I will clear a path for you.”

Coulson cleared his throat, bringing the pair's attention back to the older man. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, and Jemma felt Fitz brush his hand against hers. After a slight pause, he grabbed her hand in his, gently swinging their hands between them. 

“We are gathered here today, in the presence of these witnesses, to unite in matrimony Jemma Anne Simmons and Leopold James Fitz. The contract of marriage is most solemn and not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously and with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities.” The two smiled at each other, both trying to relieve some of the tension and awkwardness they both inexplicably were feeling and to stop themselves from laughing at the man’s dramatic description of marriage.

“Any two people who have come to this point,” Coulson continued, “clearly feel the love and joy that they find in one another… Can surmount any obstacles that lay in their path.”

Jemma couldn’t help but look back on her and Fitz’s relationship as Coulson rambled on. He was right, in a way. Fitz did make her happy, bringing her joy in a way virtually no one else had in her entire life. And together, they did seem unstoppable. No matter what problem was put in front of them, from Professor Vaughn’s classes back at uni, to their first year at the lab when they — somehow — got separated and had to fight for months to get to work together again, they could always find a way to put their brains together to beat any obstacle in their way.

If they were going by Coulson’s definition, they seemed like they would make the perfect married couple.

Really, if they went by anyone’s definition, they would make a perfect couple. They understood each other, deeply cared for each other, had fun with each other, and loved each other.

In a platonic way, right?

Except right now, Jemma couldn’t tell if those feelings for the man standing next to her were platonic or not.

She suddenly noticed so many things about him she hadn’t cared to pick up before. How the blue in his eyes sparkled in the light. How the late spring sun had started to tan his skin after another dreary New England winter. The curl of his lips as he politely smiled at Coulson. She thought she could look at him forever and not get bored.

She looked down at their joined hands, feeling him squeeze her hand in a supportive gesture. Had it always felt like this when he held her hand? Had it always made her feel so happy and safe? Had it always been like a lifeline to her?

She looked back up to him to see him smiling at her in a way she had never seen before. She hadn’t seen it from friends, from her family, not even anyone she’d ever dated before. Fitz was looking at her with such adoration and — dare she say it — love that it made her feel dizzy.

She was pretty sure she was looking at him in the exact same way.

Daisy was right.

She was so fucked.

Years ago, Daisy had made a joke that the two of them were psychically linked. At this moment, Jemma would have done anything in the world to have that be true. To be able to get inside Fitz’s head and hear what he was thinking.

Fitz couldn’t be more glad that she couldn’t, as the inside of his head was currently a mess.

Because he was about to marry someone he was pretty sure he was in love with, and that was the exact opposite of his plan.

“The rings, please,” Coulson requested, snapping Fitz out of his thoughts. He turned to Mack and Jemma turned to Daisy, their friends dropping the rings into their hands. 

“Okay, Fitz, repeat after me,” Coulson said as Fitz took Jemma’s left hand in his, tentatively holding it. He was painfully aware of the weight of her hand in his, the butterflies in his stomach only growing.

“With this ring, I thee wed...”

“With this ring…” Fitz trailed off, looking up from Jemma’s hand to her eyes. “I thee wed,” Fitz finished, his voice wavering slightly.

“... and with it…”

“... and with it…”

“... I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands.”

“... I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands.” Fitz let out a shaky breath as he finished, sliding Jemma’s ring onto her fourth finger. It looked beautiful, the gemstone shining in the late-afternoon light.

Fitz eventually dropped her hand, letting her take his left hand in hers. Coulson turned to Jemma, having her repeat the same vows. Fitz knew they were generic, just some non-denominational words to make the ring exchange official. But he couldn’t help but think they perfectly fit the two of them. Fitz would give Jemma anything in the universe she wanted, and he trusted her with everything he had. He truly believed that he didn’t deserve her, he’d never met someone as kind or as brilliant as her, and he didn’t know how he ever got lucky enough to call her his best friend.

It’s just that right now, Fitz wished he could call her more than that.

Well, he could call her more than that right now. It’s just that he wished he could _consider_ her more than his best friend. That he could call her his wife without it being because of a favor between friends.

Jemma slid the ring onto his finger, and both looked up to Coulson, letting their hands drop to their sides. Fitz’s hands were shaking, and he found himself gently pushing the ring around his finger in circles. He wasn’t one for jewelry, but he could get used to wearing this.

“I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife. Fitz, you may kiss the bride.”

Oh.

Fitz hadn’t thought ahead this far. The wedding had been an abstract idea in his mind until a few minutes ago; he hadn’t fully realized he would have to kiss her.

Maybe kissing her would be terrible. Jemma hadn’t had a long-term partner in a while, and the idea had baffled Fitz for years now. Jemma was perfect in every conceivable way. Brilliant beyond words, kind, caring, hilarious, beautiful, a joy to be around. She was magnificent, really. Maybe the only thing missing from her being the perfect partner was her being a terrible kisser, but Fitz hadn’t been able to test that theory yet.

That is until her hands are holding onto his shoulders, and his arms have somehow found their way around her waist, their lips on each other’s.

And, as it turns out, Jemma Simmons is perfect in every conceivable way.

The kiss didn’t last long, Jemma pulling away after a couple of seconds. He could distantly hear his friends clapping, but all his attention was on her.

“Thank you,” she breathed so that only he could hear it.

All he could do was gape at her, nodding after a few seconds just to make sure she knew that he had heard her.

Then, he was pulled away by Mack and Hunter, and she had unwrapped herself from his arms. Fitz weakly held his left hand up to his face, feeling the cool metal of his ring press against the lips that had just been kissing his best friend. As his friends talked over each other, all of them walking their way through the park, only one thought was echoing through Fitz’s mind:

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

——————

“Daisy,” Jemma hissed, grabbing her friend’s arm as she walked up to the bar, “I need your help.”

“With what?” Daisy asked, not even looking back at Jemma.

“With Fitz.”

“Why?”

“Because you were right. About him. About me and him.”

Daisy slowly turned to Jemma, a mischievous grin growing on her face.

“I knew it!” She said, pointing her finger in Jemma’s face.

“Daisy…”

“I fucking _knew it_!”

“Stop that! I need help, not gloating,” Jemma said, rolling her eyes.

“How’d the whole ‘kissing someone you’re definitely not head over heels for’ during your wedding go?” Daisy teased.

“Oh, terribly,” Jemma said before catching sight of Daisy’s wide eyes. “No, not that. He’s not a terrible kisser — God, he was such a good kisser — it’s just… I started thinking about him during the ceremony. About the two of us, together and… I think it finally clicked for me.”

“Took you long enough,” Daisy muttered.

“It truly couldn’t be at a worse time!” Jemma put her head in her hands, leaning against the bar. “I mean, I don’t want to keep this bottled up because what if I suddenly blurt it out and tell him everything? Or what if I start losing my mind because I don’t tell him? How are you supposed to work with someone you’re in love with every day without telling them? But then I can’t go and tell him because what if he thinks I used him or finds me creepy or… Or what if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Okay, Jemma,” Daisy cut her off from spiraling even further. “First, I don’t think Fitz could ever think of you as anything besides amazing. Second, I’d bet you 100 bucks he feels the exact same way. I actually did bet on it, and Mack totally owes me twenty dollars.”

“You bet on whether or not I would figure out I have feelings for Fitz during the wedding?” Jemma asked, pushing her face out of her hands to look at her friend with a puzzled expression.

“No, dummy,” Daisy said, before looking down and continuing quietly, “we bet on whether you or Fitz would admit it first.”

“I hate you all,” Jemma mumbled, no genuine hatred in her words.

The bartender put the drink Daisy had ordered in front of her, pulling her attention away from the conversation to thank him. 

“Look, Jemma,” She started, pushing herself off the bar to walk back to their booth. “I’ll support you whatever you do, but you shouldn’t keep things bottled up. I know how you are, and I know how Fitz is. It’ll be better for both of you if you tell him.”

Jemma was about to jump in with her own fears and doubts about it, but before she could Fitz, Mack, and Hunter were already in earshot. She pasted on a smile, sliding into the booth next to Fitz.

Jemma didn’t think she had ever been so nervous to sit next to him before. She had been around him for years and had never been anything less than completely at ease. But now, as their legs accidentally brushed under the table or he accidentally touched her arm, she felt like she could burst.

“What were you all talking about?” Daisy asked from the other side of Jemma, taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh, nothing,” Fitz said as Hunter said, “Fitz was telling us all his embarrassing Simmons stories.”

Jemma turned to him, trying to read his expression as he started to blush. 

“Embarrassing Simmons stories? Oh, I bet you have a thousand of those. Which one was it this time?” Daisy said with a giggle.

“The Sally Webber prank,” Mack provided.

Jemma groaned and leaned back against the seat, feeling marginally more at ease with every word the group said. At the end of the day, they were still all friends above all.

“Not that, Fitz,” She said, making him stifle a laugh, “she scared the shit out of me!”

“I know, you screamed like a girl.”

“I am a girl!”

“I think I still have the video she sent me of the whole thing…”

“There’s a video?” Daisy asked, perking up in her seat.

“Unfortunately,” Jemma sighed as Fitz said, “Luckily,” earning him a slight shove from Jemma.

Is she still allowed to make fun of him? To tease him and to joke with him around as they've always done? Or was that going to be off-limits when he realized that they didn’t feel the same way about each other?

Fitz pulled out his phone from his pocket, scrolling through until he found what he was looking for.

“You have an entire photo album of me?” Jemma asked as she looked over his shoulder and onto his phone.

“Yeah, is that okay?” Fitz asked tentatively.

Jemma nodded quickly. It was charming, really. If he had told her about it a couple of hours ago, she would’ve thought nothing of it, and probably would’ve seen it as an insignificant gesture between friends. Now, she couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of Fitz spending hours combing through his phone to make sure he had included every picture and video of her from a decade of friendship.

“It’s just so I can access all the blackmail quicker,” Fitz said, obviously trying to make her feel more at ease. It shouldn’t be tense, Jemma couldn’t help but think, he’s her best friend, it shouldn’t be weird that they had just been through a fake ceremony.

“Oh, of course,” She laughed a bit. 

It wasn’t all blackmail, of course. She could see the pictures from where she was sitting. Most of them were sweet. Her focusing on a book across a room. Her having the time of her life at a party. Her showing some cookies to his camera that she was incredibly proud of. Her laughing the one time they had gone out to the park, trying to draw portraits of each other with no prior art experience outside of blueprints and diagrams. Her looking at peace, her looking genuinely happy.

Nevertheless, there was that little voice sitting in the back of her head, telling her he just didn’t feel the same way. She was in love with him, and she saw this all as romantic because of it. She was seeing his actions through rose-tinted glasses. It was all a simple thing friends can do for each other.

She sat back as her friends laughed at the video of her nearly having a heart attack because Sally Webber pretended she had telekinetic powers, letting her self-doubts consume her.

(Of course, if she hadn’t been so consumed by them, she could’ve seen the way Fitz was looking at her, with the same amount of fondness and warmth he had shown at the wedding. She could’ve heard the way Hunter teased Fitz under his breath, or heard the way Fitz didn’t deny anything Hunter teased him about.)

——————

Fitz couldn’t sleep.

That wasn’t exactly a strange occurrence, he often had a bit of trouble getting or staying asleep.

But this time was different than usual. It wasn’t just because he had a cool idea for an invention or his thoughts were a bit too loud to block out. Tonight, he felt like his entire body was buzzing with something between happiness and fear.

Today (or yesterday, technically, it was just past four in the morning) had been… 

How exactly are you supposed to feel after you marry your best friend?

Are you supposed to be smiling this much? Are you supposed to not be able to stop thinking about the way it felt to kiss them, like your entire life had been leading to it? Or to not be able to stop thinking about the way their eyes crinkle when they laugh?

Are you supposed to be running over the countless ways they could tell you that _they just don’t feel the same way_ or _they love you, but not like that_?

Fitz had been in love with people before, but he had never quite felt like this.

Going on for eleven hours now, Fitz had felt like he had finally solved a giant puzzle. He had put the last piece in, and all of a sudden everything had taken shape.

Fitz felt like he was holding his future in his hands, like a delicate baby bird, and he could crush it at any moment. 

It’s not that he had ever imagined a future for him without Jemma Simmons, because — looking back — he can’t say he ever has. Except before, those dreams had been incredibly limited. In them, they lived close to each other, maybe even shared a flat. They worked together, creating amazing things in perfect harmony. They spend as much free time together as possible, keeping up their marathons of cheesy sci-fi shows and spending hours planning pranks on their coworkers. They would retire around the same time, both wanting to dedicate more time to their personal lives than their work. 

(He never dreamed about either of them moving in with anyone else, finding another research partner, settling down with anyone else. It was always just him and Jemma. In other words, it was perfect to him.)

But now, he couldn’t help but imagine more than that. They wouldn’t just be flatmates, they would sign the lease on a house together. Maybe a cottage, maybe one in Scotland. He always found them very quaint, and he knew Jemma loved the countryside. They would probably live wherever she wanted. He could never deny her anything. The things they created wouldn’t just be perfect because they were flawless combinations of his tech and her biochem, but because they were a combination of his genes and hers. (Though he couldn’t help but hope they took more after their mother, sue him). They would slow down as the kids came into their lives, but not retiring completely until well after they left the house. They would retire together, wanting to savor all the time they had left as a duo.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. How he was going to tell Jemma, or if he would at all. All he knew is that his mind was completely filled up with her, wanting to make her happy, wanting to keep her safe, wanting a future with _her_.

Of course, he would be happy just being her best friend. On some level, it would hurt, having to sign the divorce papers on Monday and go on like there was nothing between them. But Jemma was his best friend, and he would never do anything to risk their friendship. He wanted to be with her, at this moment more than anything, but how would he ever work up the courage to tell her?

A sharp banging on his door ripped him out of his thoughts. Who the hell is awake at this hour?

Well, Fitz is. But who the hell knocks on someone else's door at this hour?

Fitz pushed himself up and off his bed, stumbling out of his room and up to the door of his apartment. He probably looked a mess, hair sticking out in a million different angles and dressed in a ratty, old t-shirt and TARDIS-covered pajama pants. At this exact moment, on this exact day, he couldn’t care less.

When he opened the door, he couldn’t help but pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. What was Jemma doing at his door at four in the morning?

“We need to talk,” Jemma said, her voice raspy. Had she been crying? Was it his fault?

Fitz couldn’t find the words he wanted, or needed, to say to her, so instead he just cleared a path for her, letting her step inside his apartment. 

She had been here hundreds, if not thousands, of times before, but something about this time felt different. Usually being around her made him feel totally at ease. Tonight, as she paced in his living room, her hands fidgeting, he felt like he couldn’t breathe properly. Like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

“I’m sorry for bursting in here so late, you must be so annoyed,” Jemma mumbled.

“No, it’s okay, I couldn’t sleep, anyway.” Fitz pushed his hands into his pajama’s pockets, suddenly feeling self-conscious and nervous in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Jemma nodded, looking down at the floor as she continued to pace the length of his living room. Fitz was still standing in front of the door and had taken to fiddling with his wedding ring. The two fell into a stiff silence for an excruciatingly long amount of time (or less than a minute, Fitz couldn’t be sure) before both spoke up at the same time.

“I’ve been thinking…” 

“I need to…”

“Please,” Jemma said, with a bit more force than he would expect. “Let me go first.”

Fitz stared at her for a beat, not entirely sure if he was ready for what she was about to say. He was _sure_ he had fucked this up in some way. Something from his body language or the way he was talking with their friends at the after-party must have tipped her off. He must have crossed the line somehow, and he had ruined everything. She probably knew exactly what he was dying to say and was about to tell him the exact opposite.

And then he nodded, letting her get on her with her train of thought.

This was it, he thought. This was his last moment where he got to call Jemma Simmons his best friend. The Fitz-Simmons partnership would be DOA. Time of death: 4:32 AM.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jemma restarted, “about the wedding. About us.” 

By now she had stopped pacing, taking a few tentative steps closer to him. She had also taken up fiddling with her wedding ring. 

“During the wedding, I was thinking about everything between us. Our friendship, our partnership. And I think something finally clicked for me.”

Fitz felt like he was staring down the barrel of a gun, waiting for her to pull the trigger. It was _agonizing_. 

“What exactly clicked for you?” Fitz asked, his voice wavering, as she paused.

“What everyone saw between us. The… the jokes and the jealousy and the random comments from strangers when they pass us on the street.” Jemma paused again, looking back down at the floor for a moment. When she looked back up at him, she had tears in her eyes.

“Fitz, you are my best friend in the world. I would _never_ want to do anything to jeopardize that. If I knew that this whole fake wedding thing was going to complicate things I would’ve just proposed to some random person on the side of the road.”

“Jemma,” Fitz interrupted, “you haven’t complicated anything between us, it’s all quite simple, really.” It was incredibly simple to him. He was in love with her, she was letting him down easy. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Maybe there is.”

Fitz paused, gaping at her with his eyebrows furrowed.

“What I’m saying is… I think it complicates things because I don’t think you feel the same way I do, and I think it’s going to complicate things. Because there is something between us now, Fitz. Something much more than just a business transaction between friends.”

Oh, God. Oh, _God_ , she knew. And she didn’t feel the same way. How much clearer could she be? 

Jemma sighed, pressing her hands to her temple.

“It’s just…” She bit down on her lip, hard enough that he was worried she might hurt herself. “Fitz, you are my favorite person. Ever. I love being around you, I love working with you, I love your stupid jokes and how obsessed with monkeys you are and how adamant you are that one day I won’t hold you back from having one. Anytime I’ve ever looked into my future, anytime I’ve planned anything, it’s always been with you. And I’ve always thought it was because you were my friend but…”

There it was. The _but_ , the _just not the way you feel_. Fitz fixed his gaze on the ground, not quite able to look at her as she broke the news to him.

“Fitz, I think I’m in love with you.” She said it so softly he was afraid he had dreamed it. His head snapped up, looking straight into her eyes. He pinched his hand, just to double-check he wasn’t asleep.

Fitz stumbled over his words, not quite sure how to respond. He had spent the last eleven hours thinking nothing like this would ever happen in his life, and suddenly the rug had been torn out from under him. (Though he had never been happier to be caught flat-footed.)

“Really?” He eventually got out, his voice sounding weak and cracking a bit.

“Yes,” Jemma breathed out. After a moment, another moment where Fitz was at a total loss, she spoke up again, moving towards his front door. “You don’t have to say anything, I already understand. I’ll let myself out,” She said almost under her breath.

Fitz grabbed her hand as she walked by, making her turn around to face him.

“I think I might be in love with you, too.”

Jemma’s eyes brightened, a smile slowly appearing on her face. “Really?” She asked, her voice an exact echo of his from a few seconds ago, the similarities almost making him laugh.

“Yes. I think… I think I have been for a while, it just didn’t actually sink in until —”

“Until we had a total stranger telling us how much we loved each other and how important it was?” Jemma said, a bit of humor in her voice.

“Yeah.”

Jemma laughed lightly, before cautiously stepping up to him, taking his hand in hers. “I… I didn’t think I would get this far. I definitely thought you were going to turn me down.”

“I could never turn you down, for anything.”

Jemma looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, clearly caught off guard by the idea of it, before grinning up at him. “Does that mean I can bring dead things into the lab again?”

“Okay… I can turn you down on one thing,” He clarified, making her laugh and lean her forehead against his shoulder.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Jemma asked quietly. “I mean… We're supposed to get divorced on Monday. Are we still going through with it or…”

“I think… we should wait to make any big, life-altering decisions until the morning.”

“It’s already the morning.”

“You got me there. But maybe we should wait to make those decisions until both of us are running on eight hours of sleep, not just stress,” Fitz said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“And for now?”

“For now? Well… I guess we could still do this,” Fitz trailed off, leaning down to slot his lips against hers, tasting a mix of her toothpaste and the drink she had at the bar as she reached up to run her hands through his stubble and hold his face somehow closer to hers.

The kiss didn’t last long, Jemma smiling so much that they eventually had to break apart, Fitz instead opting to press brief kisses across her face.

“We’re terrible at this,” Fitz said with a quiet laugh, his voice slightly muffled against her forehead.

“What’d you mean?” Jemma asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“I mean… we had years, well over a decade, side by side, and it never occurred to us. And when it does — at probably the most inconvenient moment possible — we barely have the courage to talk about it.”

“I had the courage to talk about it,” Jemma said, her eyes lighting up as she started to tease him. “I mean, I was scared to tell you, but I got there. It just took staying up for an ungodly amount of time staring into the ceiling with sad, sappy music playing. Were you really too afraid to talk about it?”

Fitz nodded, his smile fading a bit. “What were you afraid of?” Jemma asked.

Fitz froze, looking away from her eyes and down towards the floor between them. “That I would ruin things between us. That you wouldn’t want to be friends with me or even talk to me anymore. I just… I didn’t want to lose you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” Jemma said, holding her hand up to his face to make him look into her eyes. “You’re never going to lose me. I promise.” She said the words quietly, but with a near-impossible level of conviction and care behind them. 

“Besides, I would never not want to talk with you. Who else is going to deal with my inane _Doctor Who_ theories?”

“Do I deal with them?” Fitz smiled, tilting his head as he looked down at her.

“You better,” Jemma laughed, pushing herself up to kiss him again, their laughter bouncing off the walls of his tiny apartment.

Fitz could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not at all confident in this, but the idea refused to leave my mind and it wasn't too hard to write so here we are, I guess. Please feel free to leave kudos and/or comments if you want, I always appreciate them!


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